


the thought of you

by imdeansgirl



Series: my soul and yours are the same [1]
Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Mild Language, Sharing a Brain, Telepathic Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 19:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7696912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imdeansgirl/pseuds/imdeansgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucas has heard the voice in his head all his life. Everyone does. But he’s guessing no one’s voice is quite like his. (5x Lucas is grateful he can hear his soulmate’s voice + 1x his soulmate is grateful.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	the thought of you

**_i._ **

_You’re stressed out?_

Lucas jumps, just slightly. No one even notices excent Zay and the teacher. Zay sends him a worried glance and the teacher glares suspiciously, but Lucas just smiles apologetically at them both until they turn away. Once they do, Lucas tries, desperately, to turn back to his science test.

 **Not the best time,** he thinks back.

To be honest, he shouldn’t be that surprised as he is to hear someone talking to him in the silence. It’s hardly the first time his soulmate has spoken to him. But sometimes, there’ll be long stretches of silence where neither of them speaks through the connection very much. The voice in his head often picks terrible times to return to him; like, for example, his science exam. But, he supposes it’s probably not his soulmate’s fault. Strong emotions do leak through the connection sometimes, even when they’re not using it. Like stress. Stress from his science exam.

He gets a tinge of annoyance thrown back at him, and then, _Sorry, can’t help it._ A brief pause then, where he does his best to solve the problem in front of him, until he hears, _What’re you doing?_ Genuine curiousity flows through, and Lucas almost takes a second to anser. But, as much as everyone would probably love it if Lucas started focusing on his soulmate once and for all, he’d really rather focus on not failing eleventh grade science. Because although finding his one true love may be the universe’s destiny for him, not getting held back (again) is his own destiny for him.

While Lucas is trying his best to focus on finding the velocity of a moving carousel, though, his soulmate gets annoyed again. _Fine,_ they huff. _Just wanted to know if I could help._

He shifts in his chair, physically trying to get comfortable, and mentally trying his best to convey his own annoyance. **Unless you’re a science genius, there’s no way you can help.**

 _Hah!_ He frowns at the distinct feeling of amusement that surely isn’t his own. _You have got to be kidding me._ When Lucas doesn’t answer, eventually, his soulmate responds, _You just landed the jackpot of soulmates, my friend. I actually am a science genius._

Lucas snickers, like actually snickers, out loud. His teacher shushes him automatically, and he grimaces and tries to remember that this is a mental conversation he’s having right now. **You’re joking,** he replies. **Is there any way I could convince you to help me on my science test?**

_What else are soulmates for?_

Up until now, he wasn’t sure he knew.

\--

When he gets an A+ on his science exam, he beams and Zay’s eyes widen. “Dude!” his best friend says, tugging the paper out of his hand. “I don’t know how the hell you did that. That exam was _rough._ ”

Over the week since he’s taken his exam, he’s been talking to his soulmate a lot. He figured, if he didn’t know that his soulmate was a science genius, he really didn’t know much else either. So they’ve spent a lot of time getting to know each other. 

( _You’re a bull-rider?_ his soulmate asked. They sounded and felt awed at that, like they never would’ve expected Lucas to do such a thing.

Lucas first felt pride, and then embarrassment. **Yeah, well, sheep-rider first,** he clarifies, earning him a sweet and melodious laugh. **Then a bull-rider. All because of my friend Maya. It’s a long story.**

And, though he’s never seen his soulmate, he pictured them smiling when they thought, _I’ve got a lot of time._ )

Zay would’ve understood if Lucas had told him. It’s not like Zay and Maya _haven’t_ cheated off each other during tests before through the connection. (Whoever puts together these soulmate things must’ve not thought about it when they threw Maya and Zay together, but they sure did brew up a world of trouble.) But for some reason, his soulmate is his. It doesn’t feel right to share.

So he just smiles. “I’m lucky, I guess,” he says. Zay rolls his eyes and goes back to trying to pay attention to the rest of the lesson.

In his head, Lucas thinks, **Hey. Got an A+ on my exam. Wanted to thank you for that.**

After a moment, his soulmate thinks back, _You’re very welcome._

He can’t tell if the affection that spreads across the connection is his or his soulmate’s. Maybe a little bit of both.

**_ii._ **

It’s been a while since the nightmares came back.

The bull bucking violently underneath him, him falling to the ground in a broken pile of near nothingness. Zay and Maya in the crowd, helpless, watching with wide eyes and Lucas nearly gets trampled to death. Blood on his face, dirt on his clothes, a raging pain in his chest -

He startles and wakes to the sound of someone else’s voice. Glancing at the clock, it’s too late for anyone to be calling for him. 2 in the morning. He huffs and looks around for the source of the voice before realizing it must be the one only he can hear.

_Another nightmare?_

He shakes himself. It’s been a couple weeks since he started using the connection fairly often, and it still surprises him that he’s known this person for almost his whole life. They’ve always been right there, with him for everything – even the moments he’d never share with anyone else. He always took it for granted before. But on nights like this, Lucas remembers that his soulmate was _there_ the night he was nearly killed by that bull. Even if they were too young or too scared to say anything, they were right there with him, sitting along the connection as Lucas’s pain hit them over and over. And then they were there for all the nightmares afterwards – Lucas would always wake up to the feeling that someone was sitting with him, trying to comfort him. But no one would actually physically be there.

He realizes that someone was actually there, now.

They were there for all the fear and the pain and the sadness when it became too much for him. Just like Lucas had always felt their loneliness and terror and despair when it became too much for them. Sharing a connection and sharing strong emotions like that was just something that went hand-in-hand. It was a cross they had to bear.

 **Yeah,** he replies. **Yeah, I’m – I’m sorry if it woke you up.**

 _Been awake for hours. Can’t find it in me to sleep tonight._ On one hand, he wants to tell them to get some sleep. On the other, he finds their presence comforting – when he prods at the connection, he can even feel a little bit of worry. _What were you dreaming about?_

He hesitates for a moment, then decides that they’re his soulmate. They can always be trusted. **I don’t know if you remember feeling it, but a few years back, I was riding a bull when I fell off and almost got trampled. Broke a couple ribs, bled a lot.**

The connection is suddenly thick with dread, and he can’t tell if it’s from him recalling the memory or from his soulmate doing the same. _Oh, God, is that what that was? Jesus. I thought you were going to die that day._

Lucas can’t help but huff a little laugh at that. **So did I,** he admits. Both are quiet for a moment, before he asks, **Have you gotten all my nightmares throughout the years?**

A careful pause from the other end of the connection, and then, _Some of them, I think. And I don’t think I ever really knew the specifics – I just got the fear, in varying amounts. Like I’m sure you’ve gotten some of mine._

There were times when Lucas would wake up in the middle of the night with a spike of fear in his heart, back when he was young and too naïve to try to distinguish between their fear and his own. So he supposes he probably had felt their nightmares, just beyond the edge of his own mind where it fades into theirs.

 _But it never lasted long,_ they continue. _The terror usually melted into peace or something pretty quickly._

He smiles, if only a little bitterly. **My mom.**

When he was young, his mom came into his room after every one of his nightmares. When he was younger, it was mostly about stupid stuff, like clowns and darkness and fire. But after the bull thing when he was fourteen, that was mostly what they were about. She would come in and sit with him, work her fingers through his hair and smile. She’d laugh, she’d talk, she’d sing.

She’d leave.

 _What happened to her?_ they ask, and Lucas wonders if they can feel his resentment. _If you don’t mind me asking, of course._

 **It’s a long story,** he warns. They’re quiet, but they feel eager to listen. So Lucas decides to share. **Two years ago, my dad was transferred up north for his job. My parents figured I wouldn’t want to move halfway across the country, so they asked my grandfather if I could stay with him for a weekend while they went to check out the new place.**

_And?_

**And they never came back.**

He feels the sting of disbelief and a taste of anger that he hasn’t felt in a long time, and he’s surprised to find that it isn’t his own. As his soulmate tries hastily to shift through this new information and the emotions they got with it, Lucas says, **It’s fine, really. I’m fine. I just wasn’t expecting it, you know? And not having a mom around to sing to you when you have nightmares is… tough.**

Suddenly, the mixture of emotions is replaced in an overwhelming whirlwind of sadness. He imagines them deflating, something Lucas said having struck a nerve. _I know the feeling,_ they agree. _All my life, man._

Lucas blinks. His mom may have left him without saying goodbye, but at least she was there when he was a kid. **You never had a mom?** he asks.

The sadness is now sprinkled with a bit of embarrassment. _I mean, she’s alive,_ they clarify. _But – my parents are kind of jetsetters. Business people. I was raised more or less by a series of well-meaning nannies and the computers in my room._

It’s almost unimaginable, never having your mom tuck you in or your dad teach you baseball. It makes him grateful for his own childhood – baking rhubarb pies, riding horses, watching rodeos. And he’s even more grateful for Pappy Joe, who may not be his parent, but never thought twice about taking him in and loving him as his own. Even if he was a little unlucky in the way of parents, it was nothing compared to parents who paid no attention to their kid. **Sorry to hear that.** Then he can’t help himself and asks, **Raised by computers?**

 _Let’s just say artificial intelligence often read me Goodnight Moon_ _instead of my father._ They both pause. _Your mom used to sing to you at night?_

**Yeah.**

A sense of awkwardness creeps over him, and at first he isn’t sure why. But then they offer, _I can. I don’t know. Sing, or something. If it helps._

And though his soulmate might feel a little awkward, it just makes Lucas feel affectionate. A big smile breaks out over his face. **You would do that for me?**

He can tell that the other end of the connection is still uncomfortable and awkward, thick with the heavy air of vulnerability. _Well, yeah. How else would I get any sleep?_ they joke, and Lucas laughs a little.

**If you’re sure you don’t mind.**

They practically scoff, and as Lucas settles in again, he listens to them sing. A beautiful, lilting sort of voice that makes him ache and miss holding someone he’s never even touched.

_Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree / Merry, merry king of the bush is he / Laugh, Kookaburra, laugh / Kookaburra, gay your life must be_

Just as Lucas is about to float off into sleep, he thinks, **You have a beautiful voice.**

They stammer and trip over their words, causing Lucas to smile again as he drifts in and out of consciousness. They quickly clear their throat and carry on singing, softly.

_Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree / Eating all the gum drops he can see / Stop, Kookaburra, stop / Kookaburra, leave some there for me…_

**_iii._ **

Texas is really quiet at night. Especially after a nice bonfire. It’s been a while since the rodeo ended and the bonfire began. All of his friends have gone home. Maya started yawning part way through the first ghost story, and after a while, Zay took her to get ice cream and then go home. Sarah packed up and left too, claiming she had a long weekend of studying to start before Monday. Which left just Lucas.

Like he said to Sarah when she asked if he wanted to walk home with her, it’s quiet and he likes the quiet. He was content to lay out and look at the stars a little while longer. Which is exactly what he did. For a while, anyway.

And then he began feeling things. Leaking through the connection, he supposes – an overwhelming feeling of loneliness. He waits, because some folks just have to reach out in their own time. And he’s proven right when he hears, _Hi. You awake?_

 **Yeah,** he answers, immediately. **I was just thinkin’ about you. You alright?**

There’s a nervous energy for a second that fades of into embarrassment. _I’m that easy to read, huh?_ Absentmindedly, Lucas nods, as if they could see him. _Sorry. I just – big house, parents aren’t around. I was feeling down._

After a pause where he searches for the words, Lucas relays the first thought that comes to mind. **I wish I could make you happy all the time.**

A slight warmth immediately spreads through him, and he pictures them smiling again. They’re soft and sweet, but cocky and sure too. He sees a smirk, with soft eyes and tinted cheeks. _Thanks,_ they say.

Underneath the happiness is a slight feeling of discomfort, like they’re not used to this much affection all at once. Which, if he’s able to judge based on the past conversations they’ve had, is probably true. Months have passed since that last late night talk that ended up in singing, and all Lucas can think about when they talk is the mom that never reads bedtime stories and the dad that’s never home. No wonder they aren’t used to affection. **I’m looking at the stars,** Lucas thinks, an attempt to shift the subject. **You’re from a city, right? Want me to describe ‘em to you?**

There’s excitement at that. So Lucas drones on and on about the stars, and his soulmate adds in their own little commentary, like what bright lights are probably planets and whatnot. The longer Lucas describes the stars, the more comfortable he gets, and they seem to be easing too. But after a while, that familiar edge of discomfort and unease returns, and Lucas stops abruptly. **What’s wrong?**

For a moment, there’s no answer. If he couldn’t still feel that familiar feeling of his soulmate at the other end of the connection, he would think that they had gone to sleep. Hell, he’s on the verge of it himself – it must be way past his curfew, and thank God Pappy Joe is out of town, or else he’d never hear the end of it.

Just as he’s about to drift off, he hears, _Why don’t you ever tell me anything about yourself?_

His tired mind blunders to grasp what he just heard. Quickly, he goes over their previous significant conversations before replying. **I tell you about myself all the time. You know about Judy the sheep, and the veterinarian thing – I’ve never told anyone that before.**

If he’s right, his soulmate just sighed heavily. He can’t help but picture them again, their chest moving smoothly with the heavy breath and a sad smile on their lips. _But I don’t know the facts,_ they say. _And the facts are comforting. Like, I don’t know your name. And I don’t know how old you are, or where you live, or what you look like at all. And I have no idea how any of that has slipped past me, because we’ve been sharing a head for, what, sixteen years?_

Lucas frowns. The ground underneath him suddenly feels too hard as he shifts around, attempting to answer. **I guess it just never seemed important to me,** he says, as honestly as possible. **I was just so comfortable talking to you that none of that ever came up. And I assumed we’d do the same thing everyone does – eventually find each other and just know. Like how they do it in the fairytales, or Romeo and Juliet; they never told each other their names or anything.**

 _And that’s always their first mistake, isn’t it?_ they say. _If Romeo and Juliet had shared their names, they would’ve tried to reconcile their families’ differences instead of dying for it. If Cinderella had told Prince Charming, he would’ve saved her. Right?_

Lucas doesn’t answer, because it seems as if something else – another reason – is at play here. After a while of letting them stew, they sigh, the tension Lucas hadn’t even notice building draining from the connection. It was like someone was pushing against a wall and then they finally gave up, weak and tired and sore.

_I’m just afraid that, if I don’t look the way you imagined or act the way you imagined when we meet, you’ll be disappointed. And I’ll never be able to think about you, you know, properly. About my almost._

**You could never disappoint me. You’re already the most beautiful person in the world to me.**

There’s not even a pause for him to think about it. It just slips out, and before he knows it, it’s out there across the connection. There’s a long and sickly silent pause, but then, the warmth is back and brighter than ever, all without the cutting hint of agitation. His soulmate is happy. Truly, remarkably happy.

They bask in that, that feeling of pure and unconditional love. Regardless of looks or gender or anything, really, Lucas will be happy with who his soulmate is because of who they are. They are smart, they are sure of themselves, they are kind, they are generous. They warm his heart. They need heart-warming. But Lucas knows that, if it bothers them this much, he’ll tell them anything they want to hear.

**But, if the facts will assure you –**

_Absolutely._

Lucas allows himself a little laugh out loud. **Lucas Friar,** he states. **I live in Austin, Texas. I’m seventeen, and I look… like a farm boy, pretty much.**

The warmth still radiating through the connection doesn’t dim. It just melds with comfort found in the facts. Comfortable and happy is a great combination on his soulmate, if he does say so himself.

_I’m –_

**You don’t have to share if you don’t want to,** Lucas assures. **I’m okay with it.**

 _I’d like to, if you don’t mind._ It makes him happy that his soulmate is comfortable with him, and so it must seep through the connection, because they laugh. _Okay, I’ll take that as a yes. I live in New York, New York, I’m sixteen, and I look like a city boy. And…_

He trails off. Lucas is taking in the fact that his soulmate is a boy (which he always kind of figured, and was glad to be proven right), so he almost doesn’t catch it. But after the silence has stretched into a rather lengthy territory, he has to ask. **And?**

_I don’t want to tell you._

Lucas frowns. **Well, that’s okay,** he says. **Whatever you’re comfortable with.**

_Ugh, you’re too nice. I have to tell you. Just… promise you won’t laugh?_

He bites back his incredulity and thinks instead, **Cross my heart and hope to die.**

_Okay. My name is Farkle Minkus._

And Lucas doesn’t laugh. Because Lucas is a man of his word. But he does smile so hard his cheeks hurt and tries to repress his amusement. **Your name is Farkle Minkus?** he asks, but it isn’t really a question.

 _Yeah, yuck it up, Friar,_ he – _Farkle_ – says. He can hear the embarrassment, but he can hear the light brush of amusement too.

**Farkle Minkus. My soulmate is Farkle Minkus. Farkle Minkus.**

_Hey, don’t wear it out!_

**I don’t see how anyone could.**

They go on like that for a while, playful bantering, until Lucas thinks, **If we got married, your name could be Farkle Friar. Oh my God.** And Farkle promptly blows a raspberry, says goodnight, and goes to bed. But Lucas feels the head-to-toe warmth Farkle shared with him all the way until morning. And when Maya asks, “What’s got you all smiley, Ranger Rick?” he finds that he can’t really put the feeling into words.

**_iv._ **

He can’t tell what the worst part of getting hurt while playing baseball is.

It could be Zay, who’s standing over him and yelping, in a loud and strangled voice, that’s doing it. His baseball uniform is all tattered and dirt and – is that blood? – questionable substances are smeared all over his blue and white uniform. He’s calling for the coach, Lucas is pretty sure, but he’s almost unable to tell over all the other yelling.

Maybe the worst part is Maya. She’s hovering above his head, eyes wide and glassy, yelling out into the stands for someone, anyone to help. She’s frantic, and her blonde hair is thrown up into a ponytail, and oh, look, there’s blood on her hands, too. Which leads him to think that he’s probably bleeding, somewhere, and he decides that he really doesn’t want to know where.

But no. None of that is the worst part at all. The worst part, by far, is definitely the voice in his head, yelling loudly and practically hyperventilating. On top of all that, only _he_ can hear the yelling and the hyperventilating. And on top of all _that,_ Farkle’s worrying is strong enough to not only leak through the connection, but come through like a rampaging tsunami. Questions are running through him, and none of them are his; they’re all in Farkle’s voice. He’s trying hard to focus on talking to him just so he doesn’t pass out, but between the pain and the stress on the connection, it’s getting harder. He tries to urge Farkle to calm down and at least take a little bit of the pressure off, but he can barely think to himself, let alone communicate across the connection. So all he can do is try to keep his head up and his eyes open.

_Please don’t die, please don’t die. I know you said you were going to play baseball again tonight, but I didn’t think baseball was as dangerous as bull-riding!_

He knows that Farkle’s only concerned for his well-being, but really, someone needs to get him to calm down. “Farkle,” he grunts, but it’s out loud instead of in his thoughts, and Zay groans loudly.

“Now he’s not even speaking English!” he yelps. “Seriously, get him on a stretcher!”

Lucas’ eyes flit to Maya, who could never stand to see her friends get hurt. She’s crying now, really quietly, trying to put pressure over the wound. Where is the wound, anyway? He can’t really feel all that much. “It’ll be okay, Huckleberry,” she murmurs. “They’re coming, it’ll be okay.”

_Jesus, please be okay. I know you’re in a lot of pain, but I need you to be okay –_

“Hello, player down! You think paramedics would at least run a little faster – ”

“Huckleberry, stay with me. Focus on the sound of my voice – ”

The world quickly fades into darkness.

\--

When he wakes up, everything is a little too much. The lights are too bright, the blankets around his waist are too warm, and the buzzing and snoring coming from around him are too loud. Most of all, the pain in his ribs is excruciatingly too painful to deal with right now. He goes to lift the blankets off of him, but feels a sharp tug when he moves his arm. He glances at the I.V. there and frowns. The last thing he remembers is the baseball field, a thousand voices in his head. (Or, maybe one voice in his head and a thousand others. It’s hard to tell.) He has no idea how or when he got to a hospital.

Next to the bed, there’s rustling. Maya sits up straight with wide eyes from one of the uncomfortable looking chairs, and hits Zay, who’s snoozing in the other one. “Babe,” she murmurs. “He’s awake.”

Once Zay is fully conscious, both Maya and Zay stare at him expectantly. Lucas just blinks at them, thus engaging in a ridiculous staring contest. Eventually, though, he says, “How long was I out?”

Maya sighs and leans back in the chair, and Zay shakes his head. “Just a few hours,” he says, and Maya snorts.

“A few hours? More like six.”

Lucas feels his own eyes widen. “ _Six_ hours?” he asks. At Zay’s nod, he sighs heavily. “Christ.”

“Well, you took that bat to the ribs pretty hard,” Zay says with a shrug. “The metal cut your skin and everything. I don’t know if anything’s broken, but you’re definitely out of baseball for the rest of the season.”

That means he’ll never play high school baseball again. He sighs and glances down at where the bat hit him in the stomach. Goodbye, senior year sports. It was nice while it lasted. “At least this isn’t half as bad as the bull-riding fiasco,” May mutters.

That reminds him – there was something… something else. Something else that he should attend to. For a moment, he thinks it over, and then it hits him all at once, like a freight train. He blinks, then says, “Oh shit. Farkle.”

Zay frowns. “Yeah, you said that right before you passed out, too,” he says. “I didn’t know what it meant, so I just kind of assumed you were talkin’ nonsense.”

“No,” Lucas says, shaking his head. “My soulmate. That’s his name.”

Both his friends raise their eyebrows. Seemingly shocked, Zay asks, “ _You_ asked your soulmate their name?” just as Maya asks, flatly, “Your soulmate’s name is _Farkle_?”

Ignoring both of them, he continues, saying, “When I got hurt, he was freaking out. I have to talk to him, like, right now.” He glances at the clock mounted on the wall. One in the morning, which makes it around two in New York.

Maya and Zay glance at each other, possibly having a private conversation. At this point, Lucas isn’t sure if they still use the connection, or if they somehow can communicate just with their eyes. He really wouldn’t be surprised if it were the latter. Eventually, both their gazes flitter back to him and Maya grabs Zay by the hand. “We’ll leave you alone,” she says, and they both stand and exit the room.

After a brief pause to ensure that they’re gone, Lucas turns his attention to the connection. It’s still warm, like Farkle’s been sitting there this whole time, just waiting for Lucas to be okay. Because Lucas was always okay. **Farkle? You there?**

He immediately gets flooded with an irrational combination of worry and relief. _Are you okay?_ he asks, immediately. _What the hell happened?_

Though he thinks, briefly, that Farkle should probably be asleep, he’s happy that he isn’t. He doesn’t think that he could bear it if he had to wait until morning. **Hit by a baseball bat,** he explains. **Not really one of my best moments.**

There’s an irritated huff from Farkle’s end, and though he sounds annoyed, the feelings slipping through the connection betray him. Lucas is getting anxiety, relief, and concern, but no anger at all. _Yeah, you can say that again,_ Farkle agrees. _How did you get hit by a baseball bat? Is everything okay?_

As Farkle asks his questions, Lucas goes about inspecting the wound. There are bandages underneath the hospital gown, probably covering yet another scar. He shakes his head. One of these days, he’s going to get himself killed. **My ribs are a little banged up, think I got a scar. But otherwise, all good.** He huffs a laugh at the memory of the game, funny to him now, but not as funny when it happened. **As for how I got hit, there’s a terrible guy on our team – name’s Charlie. He swung back a little too far and hit the umpire – me – in the ribs. Problem is, I didn’t have any protective gear on yet, ‘cause the game hadn’t started. He was just practicing.**

A little anger does leak in there, directed, Lucas thinks, at Charlie. _Son of a bitch,_ Farkle says. _You’re really good at getting hurt, Friar, you know that?_

Lucas laughs a little. **Yeah, I’m pretty well-aware.**

They sit in silence for a few minutes, which isn’t all that uncommon for them. Though they do usually talk for hours and hours, about their days or their friends or their interests, they also enjoy the feeling of sitting together, on opposite sides of the connection. It makes the silences warm and filled with each other’s presence, even if they’re not saying anything at all. Lucas has spent a lot of time just sitting with Farkle over the past year; more, he thinks, than he’s done with anyone he’s met in real life. Ever since his junior year science exam, they can usually be found talking to each other or at least in tune with each other.

Eventually, though, Farkle says, _You wanna hear something weird?_ Lucas replies with a light **Always,** and Farkle continues. _When you got, you know, trampled by the bull all those years ago, I didn’t feel what I felt tonight. I mean, I was concerned for you, of course, and I was relieved when you were okay, but I wasn’t scared to death, or asking you what happened._

He remembers it like it was yesterday. Though it was true he’d never really thought about his soulmate at that time, he remembered other people did. Like his mom – she’d asked him, a couple of days after the whole thing, if his soulmate had talked to him. Lucas had shrugged and told her the truth – that they hadn’t spoken in a very long time and Lucas wouldn’t expect them to start now. She’d frowned and said something about people petitioning the courts to let them marry outside of their soulmates, and that was the end of that.

_But tonight… tonight I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I had to fight the urge to beg my dad to book a flight to Austin._

At that, Lucas grin, big and bright. **It’s because you like me now,** he teases.

The connection is suddenly filled with both affection and embarrassment, as if Farkle can’t decide which one he wanted to feel. _Yeah, well, whatever,_ he replies. Lucas can’t help but smile harder. _Hey, come on, I thought I was supposed to be the cocky one here._

 **You’re right, I’m sorry,** Lucas says, but he’s pretty sure Farkle can tell that neither of those things are really true. He almost lets it drop, leaves it at gentle teasing and all that, but he can’t help but ask, **But am I wrong?**

There’s a lengthy pause in which Farkle considers the question, the air of the conversation having suddenly and abruptly turned serious. _Okay, I like you,_ he says. _Happy?_

 **Extremely,** Lucas agrees, and he really is. **It’s good to know.** He stops there, and there’s a long pause where the connection begins to cloud with anxiety. **Farkle, calm down. I like you too. A lot.**

Farkle gets very happy very quickly, and Lucas would bet anything that his smile was beautiful.

They go on, talking, for a few more hours, until the sun peaks out over the curtains and they’re both guaranteed to get little to no sleep. Just as Farkle is drifting in and out of consciousness, he begins to talk quietly, so quietly that Lucas strains to hear. _It’s scary, you know,_ he says. _How much I like you. Like, tonight, I was terrified at the thought of losing you. God, I miss you so much and I’ve never even met you._

Lucas swallows. **That’s the sleep deprivation talking,** he jokes, even though he hopes that it’s not.

 _It might be the sleep deprivation getting me to say it, but I mean it,_ Farkle insists. _I like you so much more than I ever thought I would._

He sighs and throws the arm that isn’t stuck with an I.V. over his eyes. He wants to say a hell of a lot more, but Farkle is clearly exhausted and not up for a deep talk. **Get some rest, Farkle,** he says.

 _Feel better,_ Farkle says. _Please don’t ever go away._ Then he quickly slips into sleep, hopefully for at least an hour or two before he has to face the day.

What he doesn’t say is that he never wants to go away. If it were up to him, he and Farkle would never be apart.

**_v._ **

Late at night, when the bonfire is burning out and the stars are bright in the sky, that’s when Lucas is at his happiest. There’s no noise other than chirping crickets (and sometimes, if Pappy Joe’s around, the strum of a well-tuned guitar), which is exactly the way he likes it. The quiet stillness of it all is just so soothing. The dead of night in Austin has to be the best place to be. He’s not quite sure why anyone’d ever want to leave.

Which is why he’s also not quite sure how Maya convinced him to go to New York for college.

The streets are busy, racked with traffic and noise. Strangers yell at each other, pigeons squawk up at every helpless passersby, and cars honk loudly when they don’t get their way. Not to mention it’s the third time he’s been shouldered by a random stranger in the past ten minutes alone. He makes a disgruntled noise as the woman who just shoved her shoulder into his arm and then swore at him stalks away angrily, barely giving Lucas a moment to mutter out an apology. He’s decided he pretty much hates it here. “Don’t worry about it, Ranger Rick,” Maya says. “We’re almost there, I promise.”

Ah, right. _That’s_ how she convinced him to come to New York for college.

There was one thing that everyone who met Maya knew about Maya: she was a native New Yorker. As she often liked to say, she was ‘born, bred, and then kicked to the curb and forced to hitchhike across the country to find my soulmate.’ (Hell of a mouthful, but she said it a lot.) And say what you like about Maya Hart, but she definitely knows her way around New York. So when she suggested that the three of them go there for college, and Lucas just happened to mention that Farkle lived there, her eyes lit up and she assured them that she could get them together.

After a year and a half of getting to know Farkle, he knew that he was willing to go halfway across the country for him. And Zay wasn’t leaving Maya anytime soon. So they all applied to colleges in New York, and all received scholarships (Maya for her art, Zay for his athleticism, and Lucas for an award-winning essay). They packed up their bags, hugged everyone goodbye, and began the world’s longest road trip in the history of mankind. (Or at least it seemed rather long to Lucas. He was, after all, stuck alone in the backseat, forced to be the one-man audience to Zay and Maya’s Epic Love Story.)

And now, he found himself in the Big Apple, surrounded by noise and restlessness, which they all knew he would do only for one person. For the past few hours, he’s been blindly following Maya around in a city he’s completely unfamiliar with. It’s a lot of trust to put in one person, he thinks, and though he does trust her, the chances of this going wrong are far too high for his liking. His eyes are steely and his grip on his duffel is white-knuckled.

From his other side, Zay leans in close to talk into his ear. “Don’t worry,” he practically screams, clearly trying to shatter Lucas’s eardrum. “My honeynugget knows New York like the back of her hand.”

Maya obviously hears this, because she grins. But Lucas just glares at him. “I’d worry less if you’d stop trying to make me deaf,” he says. “We’re in New York, not a Tim McGraw concert.”

At that, Maya scoffs. “You’re all so country,” she says, shaking her head. “I hope this kid is actually in this café so that he and I can finally introduce you to city life.”

Months before today had been spent in preparation. (Zay liked to call it Operation Find n’ Fuck Farkle. Lucas liked to hit Zay with a pillow.) Lucas slowly got information out of Farkle – his favorite hangout spots, what he liked to eat, his favorite kind of flowers. (He may, or may not, have a bouquet of daisies in his duffel bag. But don’t tell Maya, or he’ll never live it down.) All so he could come and surprise him.

Today, like every day, Farkle had his day completely planned out, and was only too happy to talk about it when asked. So this morning he gave Lucas the rundown. And at three o’clock, he was supposed to be at a little café called Topanga’s, working on his summer reading.

Lucas was thrumming with energy, and he was sure Farkle could feel it. Almost as if he could read his mind (hah), he hears Farkle ask, _You okay? You’re really on-edge today._

He swallows, hard, and Zay pats him on the back. **Yeah, just got something I’ve gotta do,** he says. If he says much else, he’ll probably just spill everything, so he figures he’ll turn the conversation around. **How’s your carefully constructed day going?**

Thankfully, Farkle’s happy energy quickly overtakes his nervous one. _Right on schedule, thank you,_ he says. _Just got a coffee at Topanga’s, and I’m liking the book I’m reading._

 **Good,** Lucas thinks warmly, and he means it. He just hopes that the book isn’t too good, so Farkle will be okay with seeing him on such short notice.

“Alright, Lover Boy. Here we are.”

Lucas looks up and up at the sign hanging next to a windy set of concrete stairs. His blind faith in Maya had been completely and totally justified – she had gotten him to Topanga’s.

The amount of anxiety and excitement building up in him is nearly too much. Maya pats him on the back. “You go on in,” she says. “We’ll wait out here.”

He looks between them, his two best friends, and smiles nervously. “You sure?” he asks.

Zay shrugs. “Some things you have to do alone,” he says. Then he grins and jokes, “Besides, we don’t wanna witness y’all making out for the first time.”

“We’ll be here to interrogate him _Meet the Parents_ style after the making out,” Maya agrees. “And then we’ll all go on a double date.” She puts her arm around Zay’s waist and looks at him fondly. “How does a nice, fresh bagel sound?”

Almost immediately, Zay groans in delight and tucks his head into Maya’s neck. “ _Amazing,_ ” he says. “I’m starved.” Then he whispers something in Maya’s ear that makes her laugh, and Lucas finds his chest aching. Watching the two of them only makes him want to meet Farkle all the more.

He smiles at them and walks down the stairs to the little, enclosed café and takes a deep breath before he opens the door to the shop. Surprisingly, to Lucas at least, there’s no jingling of the bells or buzz or anything. The door just opens, into a nice shop that smells strongly of coffee. The shop itself is practically filled to the brim with patrons; mostly couples, gazing at each other lovingly over their coffees, and old women, filling out the crossword puzzle from today’s newspapers. When he scans the crowd, he’s overwhelmed to see quite a few young men sitting by themselves. But when his eyes reach the couches, just to his right, he finds the only one reading a book. His heart stops.

With a book in his hands and a coffee sitting on the table in front of him, Possibly-Farkle is probably the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. He has short brown hair that seems to stick straight up off of his head, and big blue eyes glued to the pages of the book he’s reading. Though his face is stoic, Lucas can imagine him sighing and laughing and singing, and he can’t help but think he’s the luckiest person in the world.

But he can’t help but remember not to count all his chickens before they’re hatched, so he tentatively reaches out across the connection. **How’s your book? You still sittin’ there and lookin’ all handsome while reading it?**

Possibly-Farkle – no, _Definitely_ -Farkle – smiles broadly. He’s definitely the most beautiful person Lucas has ever seen. _Pretty good,_ he says. _And how do you know that I’m handsome?_

 **Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea.** Farkle’s nose wrinkles, but before he can ask, Lucas thinks, **Just look to the door, please. Before I ruin the romantic gesture and throw myself at you.**

All of a sudden, Farkle slams the book closed and turns towards the door. For a moment, he just stares, mouth agape and eyes wide. Then he whispers, “Lucas?”

And Lucas feels his own mouth twist up and up into a smile, probably one too big for his face. But he finds that he can’t bring himself to care. “Farkle.”

In seconds, Farkle has jumped off the couch and ran over to him, pretty much immediately wrapping his arms around Lucas’s neck and pulling him down into a kiss. It’s chaste and soft, but Lucas feels electric shocks run all the way through his body when their mouths touch. He pulls Farkle in close, winding his own arms around his waist and squeezing.

In one moment, Farkle leans back and looks at Lucas with wide and unsure eyes. In the next, he begins to leave frantic kisses on Lucas’s mouth, cheeks, chin, nose, and – whatever he can reach, really. And in between kisses, he does what he does best: he talks. “How’d you get here?” Kiss. “How long are you staying?” Kiss. “God, how are you _this_ handsome?”

Eventually, Lucas laughs and pulls back a little, forcing Farkle to pause. “I’m got here by car, for as long as you’ll have me, and you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Farkle’s cheeks tint a rosy shade of pink at that, and Lucas delights in it. Then he glances at the room to see every couple, old lady, and lonesome young man staring at them. Farkle notices too, and his cheeks get even redder. “Soulmates,” he says to the crowded coffee shop. “I’m his – we’re – soulmates.”

Lucas chuckles as the coffee shop clientele begins to applaud and Farkle, embarrassed, buries his face in the crook of Lucas’s shoulder. “And I thought youwere supposed to be the _cocky_ one,” Lucas teases. From where they’re sitting loosely around his neck, Farkle’s arms give him a light squeeze.

“I’m dying of embarrassment,” Farkle mutters. “Just get me out of here before someone I know finds out I actually have feelings.”

They both laugh a little, and Lucas does as he’s told, pulling Farkle out of the shop, his summer reading left forgotten on the table.

\--

A few hours later, they’re sitting in a bagel shop that Maya called ‘to die for’ and Farkle had called ‘passing for edible.’ On one side of the booth, Maya and Zay are feeding each other bagel bits, Maya laughing at something Zay just said. On the other, Farkle has his head lulled on Lucas’s shoulder, their hands clutched together tightly as if afraid something would tear them apart again.

 **I’m so glad I found you,** Lucas thinks, and he feels Farkle squeeze his hand.

 _Me too._ They look at each other and smile, and Lucas can’t help but think that he hopes he never wakes up without seeing that smile again.

**_vi._ **

“Terrible idea. Terrible, terrible, bad, bad idea. L – no – _oh my God._ ”

He abruptly stops talking, concentrating, instead, on clinging to Lucas’s neck. Lucas simply grins and walks over the threshold, like carrying Farkle is no big deal and has not at all affected his ability to walk over thresholds. “Welcome to our humble abode,” he announces.

Farkle just squeaks. “Um, Lucas, look, I appreciate that you’re strong as a horse and you don’t even try, but I want you to consider that, one, I’ve been here before when we were apartment-hunting, and, two, you have stitches that we don’t need you pulling out.”

Still grinning, Lucas rolls his eyes and lets Farkle down to the floor where things are safe. Farkle contemplates, briefly, falling to the ground and kissing it, but surmises that that’s a little too dramatic – even for him. “I got my stitches taken out before I even moved to New York,” he says. “You need to stop worrying, babe.” Then he leans over and pecks Farkle on the lips, which seems to never fail in making him melt on the spot.

From a few feet away where she’s leaning on a big cardboard box, Maya groans. “You two are disgusting,” she mutters. “I’m so glad you have your own place, because living with Lucas meant we got half of the disgusting.”

As he usually does when Maya speaks, Farkle rolls his eyes. “I’m sure you and Zay were equally affectionate at some point,” he says.

The door to the small kitchen area opens, and Zay comes from behind it with a bowl of cereal in hand, shaking his head. “Nah, Maya’s never really been one for PDA,” he says. Then he looks up at Farkle and Lucas and blinks. “Oh, and I took some cereal. And you’re out of milk.”

Both of them just blink. “We _just_ moved in,” Lucas says. Zay just shrugs.

Maya sits up, sighing and stretching, her shoulders popping loudly. Zay wrinkles his nose in disgust as he sits down next to her, but still gladly feeds her a spoonful of cereal. “Anyway, Lucas,” she says, through a mouthful of Cheerios, “this lengthy college experience has been super fun and all – ”

“College only started last month,” Lucas says, frowning. “And we only got to New York four months ago.”

She waves him off. “Semantics,” she says. “The point is, now that you’re gone, Zay and I are gonna do all kinds of couple-y stuff.”

Zay swallows the last of the cereal and sits the bowl down on the floor next to him. “That’s right,” he agrees. “Like watch _Star Wars_ in our underwear.”

The mention of _Star Wars_ makes Farkle’s ears perk up. He knew there was a reason he liked Lucas’s friends (besides them helping them move into their apartment). “Yes,” Maya says, sticking her nose up. “And ordering Chinese food and trash-talking the women on _Dance Moms._ ”

Shaking his head and narrowing his eyes, Zay says, “Those bitches.”

Farkle feels Lucas wrap an arm around his waist, a now-familiar gesture. “Seems like you’ve got this all planned out,” Lucas says. But Farkle hears him think, **They won’t last a day without me.**

“Yeah,” he agrees. “You’re sure gonna be glad with Lucas gone.” _If I didn’t want to keep you to myself so badly, I’d have to insist you go back with them._

**Not a chance in hell.**

Suddenly and dramatically, Maya stands, Zay struggling to follow suit. They march up to Farkle first and stick out their hands. He shakes them both in turn and then Zay salutes him. “Boy Genius,” Maya says, “it’s been a pleasure.”

Despite himself, he smiles. “Likewise,” he agrees.

They both shuffle slightly to the side and stare up at Lucas, who just stares back. For a moment, Farkle thinks it’s just going to turn into the world’s longest staring contest, but soon they both throw their arms around him. “We’ll miss you, Huckleberry,” Maya says, her voice wobbling.

“Yeah,” Zay murmurs. “I don’t know how we’re going to play Uno without you.”

Though Farkle thinks that two people can play Uno by themselves, he doesn’t say anything about it. Lucas smiles. “Guys, our apartments are, like, ten minutes away from each other,” he says. “You can come over anytime you want.” Farkle feels his eyes widen involuntarily, and Lucas must notice, because he adds, “As long as you call first.”

The three of them stay that way for about ten minutes (about the amount of time it would take for them to get back home, oddly enough), then suddenly, Maya and Zay break off, only to sandwich Lucas with a kiss to each cheek before stepping back. “I guess this is goodbye, then,” Maya says, and Lucas tips his imaginary cowboy hat. Then Maya and Zay, hand-in-hand, leave the apartment in what Farkle assumes will be the first of many dramatic encounters.

After they’ve shut the door behind them, Lucas turns to Farkle and grins. “So, I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted,” he laments. “Airbed?”

Farkle grins. “Airbed,” he agrees.

It takes them an embarrassingly long time to open, figure out, and set up the airbed. (Probably the same amount of time it would take them to go out, buy a bed, and assemble it.) Even between Farkle’s ridiculously high IQ and Lucas’s penchant for handiness, it took them a good hour to inflate their bed for the night.

Once it is inflated, though, they throw a few pillows on top and pull one of their blankets out of a box and climb in, absolutely exhausted. Farkle curls into Lucas’s back, wrapping his arms around Lucas’s slightly broader frame and pulling in close. Lucas yawns and pushes back into him. They’re quiet for a moment before Farkle says, “I’m more exhausted than a horse in a glue factory.”

Lucas stills and then laughs, which is always Farkle’s favorite thing to hear. “Did you Google southern phrases?” he asks, and Farkle shrugs. “Son of a bitch.”

He shivers. “Did I ever tell you your accent is absolutely _sinful_ when you swear?”

There’s a grin in Lucas’s voice when he says, “Oh, I dunno. A couple of times, maybe.”

And though they don’t really use it anymore, especially when they’re alone, Farkle can’t help but reach out to the connection and think, _God, I love you._

And, for a fraction of a second, Lucas stiffens before relaxing completely and intertwining their hands on top of his hip. The connection clouds over with affection and happiness. “I love you too,” he says. “So damn much.”

**Author's Note:**

> hey, so this is unbearably cheesy and was inspired solely by the fact that corey fogelmanis can sing and i'm always screaming about it. anyway, this is the first in a long line of many different soulmate aus for this ship. [come talk to me on tumblr](http://scisaacs.tumblr.com).


End file.
